Page 53 of Crash and Burn
“Remember that time when I walked in on you without your shirt on?” he asked. “I was three seconds away locking the door and having my way with you right then and there.”
My insides pulsed at his words.
“I wouldn’t have minded if you did,” I said.
“Even in the middle of a shift at the bar?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“On second thought, maybe not.” I made a face. “Getting caught at work would be the worst.”
“So we agree we keep it low-key when we’re at the bar?” Grant said. “As low-key as I can manage, I mean.” He ran one hand down my back to cup my ass. “I’m still going to be imagining taking you every which way and on top of every table.”
My breathing sped up as I imagined it, too. I wasn’t an exhibitionist, but...
Grant squeezed and kneaded with one hand. The fingers of the other sifted through the strands at the back of my head. He tugged lightly, making me arch my back and tip my chin up to meet his eyes.
"So are you satisfied?" he asked.
"Satisfied about what?" I asked.
"You said we needed to talk." The amused glimmer in his eyes was tinted with heat. "Has there been enough talking?"
"I think we've covered everything," I said. "But I'm still not satisfied."
"No?" He quirked an eyebrow.
"Not in the slightest." I wrapped my arms around his neck and rose up on my tiptoes to plaster my lips to his.
There was no more talking that night.
There were more important things to be doing with our mouths.
18
The next morning I woke up to the smell of fishy breath wafting up my nose. I batted the air with my hand and encountered a ball of fluff sitting on the pillow next to my head. That, along with the indignantmeowtold me all I needed to know.
"Mittens..." I complained. "Stop breathing into my face."
"Always blaming that poor cat." A warm lump shifted against my side. "Maybe I'm the one with tuna breath."
I rolled over to find Grant staring at me.
Grant. Staring at me. In my bed. Naked.
I dug my nails into my palm and felt the sharp slice of pain. It wasn't the traditional pinch, but it was enough to tell me this was real.
Grant was naked in my bed. A glow of happiness ballooned in my chest, expanding and overtaking my entire body.
"Have you been watching me sleep?" I asked him.
"I just woke up."
His hair was messy, both sticking up in every direction and falling over his forehead and cheeks at the same time. I resisted the urge to push it away from his face.
Then I remembered I now had every right to touch him. I gave in to the urge and buried my fingers in his hair, smoothing it back until it no longer obscured his features.
His bleary eyes blinked up at me, still fuzzy and unfocused from sleep. With his messy hair and flushed face, he looked adorably boyish. I planted a kiss on his nose, which he wrinkled.
"Good morning," I said brightly. "Ready for some breakfast?"
